


A Drunk Conversation

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Series: Tumblr Shorts [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Complete, F/M, Season/Series 05, Slightly Romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: Scully doesn't like it when Mulder tells her what to do.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Tumblr Shorts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532234
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	A Drunk Conversation

He watches her, not unlike a hawk, but he’s starting to feel the alcohol too. She’s flushed, and he feels slightly woozy. He wants to kiss her, to take her to the back alley and show her that he was better than the last guy she slept with and was less likely to try and murder her after it, too.

“Stop staring,” She mutters, her fingers stroking the stem of her empty wine glass, and he glances at the dimmed neon sign half covered in dust. They needed to stop drinking. They really shouldn’t even have been drinking in the first place. Things were still tense.

“I’m going to get another drink. Do you want something? It’s on me. Maybe a shot?” She asks. Her speech is slightly slurred. He can’t tell if she’s making eyes at him or plotting to kill him. The latter seemed more likely.

“No, and you probably shouldn’t be having anything else, especially some hard liquor. I really don’t want to scrape your ass off the floor.” Mulder says, shifting forward. Scully gives him a look that tells him that he’s made a mistake in saying that.

“I can drink what and when I want to,” She declares, and there is an undercurrent of genuine resentment in her tone. It’s enough to make him recoil, and put his hands up. He doesn’t want to fight her. Not again.

“I’m not… I’m not trying to boss you around, but as a friend, I’m asking you to stop. I’ll drive you home,” Mulder says, and she stands, putting both hands on the table, causing it to shake. The people at the table nearby glance over.

“I’m not done drinking. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Scully, do this. Scully, do that. Scully, _watch my ass while I do something reckless_. Scully, you’re wrong. Scully, _you’re a pain in my ass_.” Her tone is mocking, and Mulder knows they need to leave.

“You’re making a scene,” He says quietly, and for a second, he remembers his father, angry and hateful.

_Fox, you’re useless. Fox, you’re the reason your sister is missing. Fox, you’re embarrassing me and you upset your mother._

When he collects himself, Scully is sitting quietly, looking down at the table between them.

Now, Mulder stands. He goes to the bar, settles the tab and helps Scully to the car. She can walk fine, but she doesn’t protest. He helps her in the car. As he drives, her head is leaned against the window, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Stop the car,” She mutters, and he pulls over. She opens the door, stumbles out, and begins retching. He climbs out and holds her while she does so. She’s trembling.

When she straightens up, she looks at him, shamefully. _What a rookie move._ He wants to kiss her. Wisely, he does not. Not because she just vomited, but because she was drunk. Because he didn’t want this to be a regret. Because he’s afraid of losing her.

“I’m sorry,” She says quietly, and he smiles.

“It’s not my building. I don’t care if you puke.” He shrugs, and plays stupid, but he knows what she means.

“I meant… at the bar. When I snapped. I shouldn’t have said those things,” Scully explains. Mulder escorts her back to the car so they can talk privately, and not out on a street.

“It’s nothing I haven’t already heard before. …and for the record, it’s called projecting.”

“What is?”

“I don’t think you’re a pain in the ass. I think that while we don’t agree, you… you’re a necessary factor into what makes this work,” Mulder says, as he begins driving again. Although he can’t see it, Scully leans in and stares at him incredulously.

“What are you trying to say?”

Mulder looks over at her as the car crawls to a stop at the light, and can see that she’s slowly sobering up.

“…that I need you.”

She’s quiet at this admission, and he’s nervous because like she had been while vomiting, he was vulnerable. The gravity of the admission was not lost on her, even while she was drunk.

“…thank you, Mulder. For everything. For… treating me like your equal. I shouldn’t have said you bossed me around. You don’t. I just… the way you came at me for the tattoo last week, with Ed… that… that really hurt. You were very angry. You sounded jealous.”

 _ **Jealous**_. The word burns because it’s true. He had been jealous. He still was jealous. His face does not betray him, only the slight clench of his hand over the steering wheel. From behind him, a car honks. He begins to drive again.

“I was _angry_ , yeah. You could have gotten hurt. But… I shouldn’t have made you feel badly about… what happened. For that, I’m sorry.” Mulder admits, and there is a long silence that sits between them, that like a stubborn cat, will not move. Only when he pulls up to her apartment.

“…come upstairs with me,” She invites, and his stomach jolts in excitment. He escorts her upstairs.

“The tab,” She remembers, sitting on the couch. He fetches her water and an aspirin. She knows she shouldn’t take it, but she does.

“I took care of it,” He says, and she looks up at him again, her expression surprisingly tender. He glances away.

“Thank you, Mulder. I really appreciate you taking me home and picking up the tab. I’ve got lunch this week… I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yes, that sounds good.”

He hesitates.

“Are you doing anything on Sunday?”

Scully smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. It makes his stomach flip. _Or maybe it’s the booze._

“No, did you have something in mind?”

He hesitates. He wants to kiss her, he wants to touch her, he wants to do anything to get rid of the swallowing desire to have her.

“No. I was just wondering. I’ll see you Monday, have a good night,” Mulder says, turning to leave.

He can’t see it but she’s disappointed.

“See you Monday, Mulder.”


End file.
